


You Feel Like Home

by sillyvizion



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, joey is ill/has polio/whatever, just some pure henryjoey content . thank you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19812910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyvizion/pseuds/sillyvizion
Summary: Henry pays a visit to his husband in hospital.





	You Feel Like Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rubberhoze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberhoze/gifts).



> well this is my first time writing something im proud of in a while, and i thought i'd post it to hopefully give my favourite ship of all time some wholesome love. canon divergent and whatnot. please enjoy and come visit me on [Twitter!](http://twitter.com/sillyvizion)

The sanitary stench of a hospital was not one of Henry's most favourite smells. Really, he would much rather be smelling absolutely anything else. The fresh wood scent of new pencils, the pungent yet strangely intoxicating smell of an inkwell, or even just the smell of crisp, clean, nothing. But as of the past few years, that awful smell of sterile instruments and the faint whiff of decay was something he had grown accustomed to. He wouldn't be tolerating it if he didn't have one goal in mind, which lay behind the door he put his hand up against, and knocked on. 

"Joey! It's me," he called, his other hand resting on the door handle as he waited for a response. A second passed by before he heard a muffled invitation to come in. Pushing the handle down, he opened the door to the room his partner was staying in.

It wasn't much, but it was leagues above those cramped communal wards almost every other sap in New York City had to tolerate. The walls and furniture were all crisp shades of white and cream, only brightened by the large window on the outward wall, which let light through it's sheer curtains. A chair or two pushed up against the corners, and two bedside tables (one housing a lamp) that cushioned a rather uncomfortable looking bed. There, attached to an IV drip of who-knows-what, was Joey, scowling at a newspaper he had folded up in his hands. 

"Can you believe this," he spoke without any greeting, "they're already on our backs for delays on the cartoons. What kinda nerve..." He lifted up the column he was reading to Henry's face as he pulled out his usual chair and sat down beside the other. He lifted his hand up to readjust his glasses and squinted at the absolutely miniscule tidbit somewhere in the business columns that nobody besides Joey read. He laughed as it was taken back.

"Hardly on our backs, now are they?" 

Joey just grumbled as he flipped the paper back over, putting it back on his bedside table as he concluded there was nothing more to read. "Not my fault I got sick - really, I don't see why my presence is necessary to stay on track." He sighed and leaned back, the top of his head bumping against the wainscoting behind him. Hospital beds were really not made for people as tall as himself.

Henry smiled, bemused. If Joey was complaining, then he must be feeling better. He lifted the tote bag he had been carrying off his shoulder, and reached into it, catching Joey's attention. "I got something that'll cheer you up," he said as he pulled out a stack of hardback books, and lifted them up onto the (other) bedside table. "I brought some that I knew you'd been wanting to read. Thought it'd give you something to do." 

Joey leaned forward, tilting his head so he could read the spines of the books. There was a good assortment; one about human psychology, one about the philosophy of fine art, and another about assertiveness. Curious to most people, Joey didn't read a lot of fiction. He spent enough time writing cartoon scripts that it felt like overkill. Touched by the gesture, he reached his hand out to Henry's, and wrapped his fingers around it as he smiled at the man.

"Thanks," was all he said. 

Henry beamed back, happy to see him smiling genuinely for once. "You're welcome," he replied.

Not one to drag on a moment of vulnerability, Joey moved on to ask questions about the studio, though he kept his hand in a loose grasp over Henry's, who quietly circled his thumb over his palm as they talked.

"Honestly, you wouldn't believe I'm the co-founder..." Henry sighed, with a hint of amusement. "Getting everyone to listen to the guy they never get orders from is an ordeal and a half." 

Joey laughed, his eyes crinkling up as they tended to do when he was enjoying himself. "I'd be confused too if the animator guy suddenly started bossin' me around like he was Mister Drew himself." Henry joined in his laughter, squeezing Joey's hand. 

"I get them to listen eventually, so it's alright." He was met with a doubtful smirk. "No really, I do! I promised I'd keep the studio running smoothly, so that's what I'm gonna do." 

Joey continued looking at him, smile still on his face as he appeared to be thinking. "I love you," he said after a beat. 

Henry felt warm upon hearing that. Joey wasn't a very verbal person when it came to love, so he felt it important to treasure all the little admissions that he himself doted upon his partner. He squeezed Joey's hand again. "I love you too."

\--

Some time passed. It wasn't long before Joey had decided he wanted to read one of the books Henry brought him, but wasn't ready for him to leave just yet. Henry was happy to stay as long as he was allowed. If this were a communal ward, he would've been kicked out long ago. But while Joey is, typically, stingy with his finances, he is also very disinterested in sharing a large room with a dozen other patients whining and throwing up all around him. If this were something acute, he'd tolerate it, but as the hospital admissions became more frequent, Henry had convinced him into paying for a private room, with the condition that he'd come visit as often as possible to satiate the loneliness that came with it. It had been working out so far. While Joey despised the cold, silent nights without Henry beside him, seeing him go out of his way to visit every day he was admitted more than made up for it. It was nice to feel wanted, Joey supposed.

They found their own way to share intimacy, even so. It wasn't much, but holding their hands together was all the more comforting than the stark contrast of nothing. Even while Joey held his book in one hand, his other was clasped around Henry's, who gently stroked his fingers as he leaned around the chair and watched the sky through the window. He was content to wait there until Joey got sick of him or the nurses did, whichever came first. 

As dusk drew in and Henry checked his watch over, he figured he had just about overstayed his welcome. Joey was starting to fall asleep where he sat, ultimately comforted by Henry's presence. With some cajoling, he convinced Joey to put the book aside and lie down. Ever stubborn, he protested even as Henry pushed him down by the shoulders without any resistance. When he was satisfied with how comfortable Joey seemed, he leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

"Goodnight, Joey," he whispered, and was met with vague grumbling. Stifling a laugh, he picked up his things and gently pushed the chair back to the corner. He headed for the door, and lingered as he turned his head back around to be sure Joey was alright. Content, he stepped outside the room and sidled the door closed behind him. 

He was hoping that Joey would come home tomorrow.


End file.
